


May, 2009

by gunsandships



Series: What Was and Wasn't [4]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-03-11 19:12:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13530780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunsandships/pseuds/gunsandships
Summary: A shift in workplace dynamics. A shift in something else, too.





	1. Dusk

“Ow.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s alri- OW!” Eliza snapped her head around to look at her sister indignantly, messing up the intricate braid said sister was trying to make for the third time. 

Peggy sighed and threw up her hands. “To make this pretty I need to be able to tug at your hair just a little to tighten it. Don’t be such a wuss.”

“Just make it looser, then,” Eliza said and turned her head back around, blowing a flyaway out of her eyes. Peggy combed through her hair with her fingers, starting over. 

“Do you know who’s gonna be there tonight? Angie said it was gonna be huge, but like… Do I know anyone, except you two and Mr. and Mrs. Washington?” 

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve met some of my colleagues before, I think. At least like ten of them were at Angie’s wedding, and I think everyone from work is coming,” Eliza said reassuringly. Peggy was a reluctant party-goer, and although her social skills were above average, she often felt insecure when meeting older, richer, and more educated people. Dean Washington’s retirement party would doubtlessly be full of such figures. 

“Honestly, it’s nothing to worry about. They’re nice. And you know Mrs. Washington really likes you.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Peggy shrugged. “Hair tie.” 

Eliza handed her the hair tie she’d had around her wrist, and Peggy finished up the braid and tied it. Standing up and checking herself out in the mirror, the older of the two grinned. “Thanks. It looks great.” 

Arriving at the Washington mansion felt like walking into the White House. As dolled up as the two younger Schuyler sisters were, they felt ridiculously underdressed compared to the beautiful woman who met them in the large hall that led into the ballroom. Martha Washington, dressed in what must be a designer gown worth at the very least a couple thousand dollars, smiled warmly and hugged them both, one under each arm. 

“Elizabeth. Margarita. How lovely you look. Thank you for coming.”

They exchanged pleasantries with her and moved on into the ballroom, where they were met with free glasses of champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries. Peggy snuck an extra strawberry when the server had his back turned, not having eaten since lunch. Eliza snorted.

“You see anyone we know yet?” Peggy asked, looking around, mouth full of strawberry. They seemed to be some of the first to have arrived, but now the ballroom, filled with light, dulcet tones from a grand piano in one of the corners, slowly started to become crowdier. 

“No, I don’t-… Oh, yeah, look, there’s Burr. He’s a colleague of mine. I think you’ve met him…? Let’s go say hi.” 

Eliza dragged Peggy towards him. Burr looked up and smiled politely at the sight of the sisters, extending his hand for Peggy to shake. “Aaron Burr. Peggy Schuyler, if I’m not mistaken?”

He was undeniably a charming man, good-looking, assertive. Tall, bald, conventionally attractive, and with smooth skin like dark cocoa, he radiated a kind of silent authority. Peggy tried not to be intimidated, and quickly swallowed her strawberry. “Yes, sir. I think we met at my sister Angelica’s wedding last summer?” 

“Ah, yes,” Burr smiled, and turned to Eliza. “Have you seen Hamilton? I need to discuss some, ah… issues with him.”

Eliza shook her head and looked at the watch on her wrist. It showed five minutes to seven. “He should be here, though. I don’t think he’d miss Washington’s retirement party.” 

Burr nodded. “Agreed. I think I see Mrs. Madison over there, so if you’d excuse me,” he gestured, champagne glass in hand, “she’ll be wanting to talk to me. Nice meeting you again, Peggy,” he smiled at her, “Eliza.” He made his way, almost glidingly, across the room, and they saw him kiss Dolley Madison’s cheek. 

“That guy is one of a kind,” Peggy laughed, and Eliza nodded. 

“Yeah. He’s even worse at work, if you’ll believe it. So pretentious. You should see him at staff meetings. He’s head of the English department, and he’s _really_ pining for Washington’s job now that it’s gonna be up for grabs.”

“Has Washington announced his successor yet?” Peggy asked, sipping her champagne. 

“Nope. I talked to Alexander and Hercules about it, and we all think he might do it tonight, publicly. It’s not really his style, he’s very private, but there’s been a lot of tension at work about it, and I think announcing it in such a stiff setting, with a lot of important people watching, will stop people from trying to argue. They’ll want to preserve their reps, you know, not come off as ungrateful or bitter or anything.” Eliza checked her watch again. Two minutes to seven. 

“Who do you think’s gonna get it?” 

Eliza considered the matter for a moment, drawing breath, before replying. “I don’t know. Several of us are certainly qualified, but he’ll definitely favor the department heads, like Burr, Angelica, James Madison, etcetera – and that’s if he’s even choosing from the ones already working at the school. There’ll have been applicants from elsewhere, too.”

“Not what I asked,” Peggy said. “Who do _you_ think?”

“Burr, probably,” Eliza confessed.

“He’s definitely got the air of authority about him already,” Peggy chuckled.

The room, which up until now had been buzzing with the arrivals and chatter of more than a hundred people, suddenly fell silent. Heads turned around them, and Eliza and Peggy turned to look where everyone else was looking. As George Washington gave a small cough and then tapped the microphone on the podium, Eliza felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Dear guests,” Washington started, as Eliza turned around to find Alexander Hamilton, breathing raggedly into her ear and grinning. Her heart lurched into her stomach.

“I lost my invite, so I had to convince the guards to let me in without it, and it took a while,” he whispered in her ear, and she just shook her head and chuckled. “Shh. I wanna listen.”

“It is with considerable sadness, but also a great sense of relief, that I announce my retirement today. As I’m sure you all know, I have been the dean of Park Vista Community High School for more than fifteen years now, and with my declining health in recent months, I feel the time has come to step down. In my many years of service to the school and the community, I have found that…” 

Peggy tried to listen with as much interest as she could muster, but found herself distracted by the people next to her. Eliza was looking at Washington, but her eyes were strangely glazed over, as though she wasn’t really paying attention to his speech. Alexander’s eyes were solely trained on her. His gaze was one of sudden interest, and there was a strange something in it that Peggy couldn’t yet quite deduce. Sadness? No, surely not. 

Alexander caught Peggy’s eye and smiled sheepishly, gesturing with a jerk of his head to Washington, and they both turned to look at the dean again.

“…and so, with no further ado, it gives me great pleasure to announce my successor as dean of Park Vista Community High, Angelica Schuyler Church!”

Eliza’s and Peggy’s jaws both dropped as the spectators burst into applause around them. They looked in astonishment at each other, then back at the podium, where their older sister was smiling humbly, shaking Washington’s hand. Angelica opened her mouth to speak, and silence fell once more, this time with a peppering of whispers and murmurs. 

“Thank you, everyone, for such a warm welcome. When I was offered the position by dean Washington last week, I-“ she started. 

Eliza whispered to Peggy and Alexander, “I can’t believe she didn’t tell us! She knew?!”

Alexander smiled knowingly, tapped his own chest and whispered back, “I knew, too. She told me to keep it a secret. Sorry.” 

Eliza gave him an indignant look. “You are such a sneak. You told me just yesterday you were sure it was gonna be Burr!”

Alexander stuck his tongue out, causing Eliza to mime strangling him with her free hand, her diamond ring twinkling. Peggy had to silence them with a hand on each of their shoulders. “Listen,” she reprimanded.

“…always held a great love for this school, our students, our staff. I feel humbled and honored by the responsibility I have been given, and I promise to do my very best for us all in the years to come. Thank you.”

Three and a half hours later, the lights had dimmed, the celebratory dinner had come and gone, and the ballroom was filled with a pleasant air of content. Every stomach in the mansion full of delicious food and wine, people were now making their way around the ballroom, mingling. 

Eliza was glad to be up and moving again, as she’d had the unfortunate displeasure of having been seated across from her colleague Thomas Jefferson, head of the History department, at dinner. It had been nothing short of hellish. He had spent the entirety of the five course meal repeating variations of the phrase “I certainly don’t mean to bad-mouth your sister, she is a fine woman, but-…”, and his bitterness had been irritating enough to drive Eliza’s fork right into the wooden table on several occasions. 

After congratulating Angelica for the fourth time, she made her way into one of the Washington estate’s seventeen bathrooms, reapplying her lipstick and splashing her face with water. As large as the ballroom was, there really were a lot of people there, and it had become stiflingly hot. Making her way out and back into the hall, she saw Alexander talking animatedly with Burr, and decided to break them apart before it got ugly.

As Eliza approached the two men, Burr pursed his lips. “We’ll continue this conversation at a later time. Goodnight.” He turned around and left.

She suddenly felt she had intruded. “Sorry. I didn’t realize it was a private matter.”

Alexander smiled at her. “It wasn’t.” 

He was lying, she could see it in the way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, which shone with something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. Frustration? Probably.

“We were just talking about the offices. Now that Angie’s getting the dean’s office, hers is up for grabs. I feel an upgrade coming my way,” he sing-sung, smirking. 

“Oh, so you’re finally getting out of mine?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Depends. That’s up to your sister. You wanna take a walk? It’s really hot in here.” He adjusted the collar of his shirt, and Eliza swallowed. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

The sun had just set, and there was a comfortably cool breeze in the air. They walked in silence along a stone path leading down to the Washingtons’ duck pond and sat down on a bench, each in their own corner. 

“Are you disappointed?” Eliza said, not looking up from the folds of her dress in her lap, crossing one leg over the other.

“About Angie getting the position? No, not really,” Alexander shrugged. “As much as I would’ve wanted it, Burr probably would’ve murdered me. Like, for real. I’d rather stay breathing.”

She let out a snort. “True. Jefferson might actually murder Angelica someday soon, though, judging by how he acted at dinner.”

“He’s insufferable. I’m sorry you had to endure him.” 

“It’s okay. I saw you over there with Mrs. Reynolds. That’s got to have been worse.”

Alexander hesitated for a moment. “Nah, Maria’s okay.” He looked for a second as if he was going to elaborate on the matter, but then decided not to.

Eliza felt his gaze on her, and looked up to meet it. His eyes looked like there was an entire world in them. She wanted to stare for the rest of her life.

“Your dress is beautiful. You look great. I forgot to tell you.”

She looked down at the dress; periwinkle chiffon, long and flowy. It _was_ beautiful.

“Thanks. You look, uh… You look good, too.” She laughed a little – this wasn’t their usual jargon. He caught on.

“Oh, come on. This old thing?” He laughed, tugging at the sleeves of his suit jacket. “Pssh.”

She could easily have blamed it on the wine. She could just as easily have locked it away and pretended it never happened. She did neither. What happened next would cause Eliza considerable inner turmoil in the months to come, and she never dared lie to herself about it, just to relieve the pain of it. The wine didn’t do it. She did. She was enough of a woman to own up to that, and to find a way to live with it.

“I hate my fiancé.”

Alexander looked startled. “You what?”

Eliza smiled bitterly and repeated herself. “I hate my fiancé. I hate this fucking ring, the fucking wedding invitations, the bitch wedding planner, and most of all, I hate him. I hate James, I hate him.” 

“Eliza, are you alright…?” He didn’t quite know what else to say, so he found it better to shut up. _Tread lightly now, Alexander._

“No. I want out.” She started tugging at her ring – it came off surprisingly easily. One tug was all it took. She held it in her hand for a while, just staring at it, turning it around in her palm. It twinkled in the moonlight. _What an ugly, sad thing._

Alexander wanted so, so badly to move closer to her, to wrap an arm around her, anything – but he didn’t dare. Instead, he forced himself to play his own devil’s advocate, not taking her bait. 

“He hasn’t… I mean… He hasn’t done anything to you? Hurt you?” 

“No. It’s the opposite.”

“I’m not following.”

She stood up, and very, very quickly – because she knew if she’d let the moment linger the urge would pass – threw the ring into the pond. As it hit the surface of the water with a plop, she inhaled sharply, sounding – and feeling – almost surprised. Alexander’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t speak, waiting. 

“He can’t hurt me. He doesn’t have the capability to hurt me. I don’t care. I don’t _fucking care_ ,” she whispered, not quite sure why her words weren’t louder, because she wanted to scream, “he can’t make me feel _anything_ , because the right and the ability to do so is reserved for someone else, and I’ve tried so hard but it _won’t fucking go away_ , and I feel horrible, I feel like a fucking monster for not letting this man go when my heart is with someone else, because unlike that someone, he actually loves me and it’ll break him if I leave, but I’m breaking _myself_ by staying, and I just can’t cope with any of it, I want out, I want out, I-“ 

Alexander, mind racing, stood up and hugged her, hard, held her until she stopped flailing. “Stay over at mine tonight.”

“I – what?” She looked dazed, confused, and felt it, too.

“Not like that,” he chuckled, although it pained him to do so, “just to get some space. To think. We can just chill out. I’m free the entire weekend, if you want to stay longer. I’m your friend, Eliza. Let me fulfil my friend duties. Plus, I fixed my window.”

She buried her face in his shirt, and he had to restrain himself from leaning down that extra inch and burying his own in her hair. She smelled like lavender, and also something else, something wildly intoxicating, he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

She finally nodded, sniffling a bit. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah."


	2. Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza is kind of a mess. Alexander tries his best.

Eliza’s eyes fluttered open. Not the fairytale princess Mary Sue kind of fluttering – the kind of fluttering your eyes do when there’s something caught in your eye and you’re trying to get it out. After about a full minute, she finally succeeded in picking out both of her contacts, which she’d forgotten to take out the night before, and which had subsequently stuck to her eyeballs like superglue. Her eyes puffy and red and her vision blurred, she reached for her phone. Alexander’s curtains were of the kind that blocked out all light, so there was no telling whether it was brightest day or darkest night outside. 

“It’s a quarter to seven,” said Alexander, appearing in the doorway to his bedroom with two cups of coffee, reading her mind. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” she smiled, sitting up and taking one of the cups from him. “You’re up early.”

“Lots of work to do,” he shrugged and sipped his coffee.

“Why? Not even Burr works weekends.” She groaned a little on the inside as she saw sixteen missed calls from James on her phone. 

“I’m writing an essay for the paper, among other things. Did you know that…” as Alexander went on about the latest political outrage, Eliza skimmed through her messages. All pretty mild, albeit concerned, versions of “where are you? Are you okay?”, all from James. She could live with not responding to those for a few more hours.

Alexander seemed to have picked up on the fact that Eliza wasn’t all that interested in the disgustingly low salaries kindergarten teachers in New York made compared to every other adjoining state, because his monologue died down, and she saw him swivel on the spot, looking for his glasses. Finding them on his nightstand, he reached over to pick them up, and Eliza caught a whiff of him as he did so. The same feeling she’d had the previous night as he’d wrapped her in his arms arose in her once more – this was better than the smell of fresh, good quality weed, better than gasoline, better than her parents’ rose garden. She could live her entire life as close as possible to the source of it and nothing else would hold any value – _okay, Eliza, get a grip. Going crazy here._

This, exactly this, was the reason this adolescent crush she’d had on Alexander Hamilton ever since they first started working together could never, ever become anything more, and why she was so much better off marrying someone like James. What had she been thinking last night? Alexander was so intoxicating, so all-encompassing, she didn’t really feel grounded when she was around him. James made her feel safe. Boring as he was, she knew he would never hurt her – Alexander, on the other hand, could probably smash her into pieces without lifting a finger. She felt her chest tighten with truth as the thought formed. 

This was a stupid, stupid idea. Staying the night, sleeping inches from the man who made her decision to marry James McHenry, a good, stable man who loved her, but whom she didn’t love, feel like a death sentence. Thank god Alexander hadn’t made even an inkling of a move on her during the night. She would’ve caved immediately. As she laid in his bed now, surrounded by a fainter, thinned out version of his scent, watching him work with his back to her at the desk – writing at the speed of light, pinching the bridge of his nose and erasing entire paragraphs, rewriting and finessing – she imagined him with the kind of attentiveness shown to his work instead focused on her.

_> James McHenry: Sorry for nagging. Called Peggy and she told me you’d slept over at her place. Leaving for the airport in 5. See you Wednesday, love you!_

Fuck, thought Eliza, who up until now had completely forgotten that James was leaving for London today. She hastily replied.

_> Eliza Schuyler: Hey, sorry, just woke up. Have fun, catch you Wednesday xoxo_

Clicking her way into her messages with Peggy, she thanked the higher powers for such a fantastic sister.

_> Eliza Schuyler: THANK YOU!!! You lifesaver, you_

_> Peggy Schuyler: np, figured u were somewhere he wouldn’t want u to be since u didn’t reply to him. alex??_

_> Eliza Schuyler: Yeah, I kind of freaked out about the wedding and everything. He gave me hot chocolate and we watched Snow White. 10/10, would recommend_

_> Peggy Schuyler: lol so u didn’t sleep w him?_

_> Eliza Schuyler: NO!!! This is a strictly platonic friendship. Thanks again for not telling James, though - you know he’s the jealous type. Just wouldn’t go over well with him_

_> Peggy Schuyler: not even a little…?_

_> Eliza Schuyler: A little what?_

_> Peggy Schuyler: like, u didn’t even blow him?_

_> Eliza Schuyler: PEGGY._

_> Peggy Schuyler: im just saying. he’s not ugly_

_> Eliza Schuyler: I’m engaged, what kind of woman do you think I am?_

_> Peggy Schuyler: an engaged LIAR_

_> Eliza Schuyler: Lol I’m done talking to you._

_> Peggy Schuyler: breaking my heart _

__

__

“Hey, do you want breakfast? I’m starving.” Alexander’s voice made Eliza jump, and her phone flew out of her hand and onto the duvet. He had stood up and was running his hand through his hair. 

“You’re done already?” 

“I only did the finishing touches,” he smirked, which she took to mean that yes, he had written an entire essay in about ten minutes. “You wanna go out or stay in?” 

“Go out, if you don’t mind. I’d kill for a caramel macchiato.” 

“You’ve already had coffee.” 

“Hey, we all have our vices. Mine is caffeine.” 

“Ha,” Alexander snorted and then shrugged. “But yeah, I guess I know a place that does a great macchiato.” 

Eliza opened the camera on her phone to check her reflection – she thanked herself internally for having remembered to remove her makeup the night before – and looked up at him. “Do I look presentable?” 

“Not in those clothes.” He gestured to his own t-shirt and sweatpants on her. 

“All I have is my two hundred dollar dress. I’m not spilling coffee on that.” 

Alexander looked down at his own pristine blue shirt and black jeans. “Just a second. Put your shoes on.” He started rummaging through his dresser as Eliza rose and went into the hallway to do as she was told. 

“Now neither of us is presentable,” he grinned ten seconds later, appearing in the hallway, and did a twirl to show her his outfit. He, too, was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt now. Eliza chuckled, and then felt her throat tighten a little as he bent down to tie his shoes, his fringe falling into his eyes and his too-big _Obama 2008_ t-shirt exposing his collarbone. 

An hour later, thoroughly caffeinated and with a stomach full of blueberry pancakes, Eliza looked into the mirror in the bathroom at Fraunces Café. She would never usually step out in public without nice clothes on – she realized with a small jolt that she hadn’t even brushed her teeth or put on a bra this morning – but she found that she didn’t really particularly care about that today. The feel of soft, loose, washed-out cotton on her bare breasts was a welcome change from the sweaty stick-on nightmare under last night’s chiffon dream. 

Walking back to their table, she was mildly surprised to find Alexander’s seat vacant. She pulled out her phone and played Snake for about three minutes, before growing bored of it and instead typing out a message for Angelica. 

_> Eliza Schuyler: Congrats again. (I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me.) Love you lots!_

_> Angelica Schuyler Church: Thank you! Again. (What part of ‘confidential’ do you not get?) Love you too._

_> Eliza Schuyler: Well, I guess I just hoped your sister would be a natural exception to the rule. Wanna come over for dinner tonight? James is out of town. Making lasagna_

_> Angelica Schuyler Church: Oooh yes. See you at eight. Bringing wine. _

_> Eliza Schuyler: Red please_

As she rearranged her limbs a little in her seat to take the edge off a sudden jolt of pain in her hip, Eliza took notice of two things happening outside. One, the sky had opened and rain was pouring, distorting her view of the street. Two, Alexander, his arms wrapped around someone, staying still for a good few seconds before breaking loose, pocketing something and turning around to go back in. Eliza felt nauseous as she recognized the profile of Mrs. Reynolds, the wife of a colleague and Alexander’s conversation partner at the celebratory dinner the previous night, turning her hood up to shield herself from the heavy downpour of rain and walking briskly out of sight. 

“I’ve got something for you,” Alexander smiled as he met her eyes, sitting down and sliding a small plastic baggie across the table. “Well, technically, your fiancé got something for you.” 

Her ring twinkled as if to say _hello, missed me?_ , and Eliza had an urge to run to the bathroom again and flush it down the toilet where no one would be able to retrieve it. Stunned, she blinked back tears – of anger, frustration, or shock, she could not tell – as she stared down at it, making no move to put it back on her finger. 

“Are you not happy? I thought-…” 

“No, no, I am, thank you so much,” she forced a smile that she knew he must see right through, “I can’t believe you found it.” 

“Maria found it, actually. I messaged her this morning and asked if she could take a look in the duck pond. They live, like, two minutes away from the Washingtons.” 

Eliza swallowed and forced another pathetic smile as she replied, “Be sure to thank her for me.” 

Her cheeks were hot and flushed, and she felt anger burn inside her as Alexander reached for her hand across the table. “Hey.” 

“What?” 

“What you said yesterday. About the wedding, and him, and everything. I just want to know how much of it was truth. And how much of it was alcohol. You know I’m always the-…” 

He was cut short by Eliza’s oddly uncharacteristic sneer, which seemed to take him aback. “Please don’t make assumptions about my relationship with my fiancé. I was drunk. That is all it was. I love him very much and I’m happy to have my ring back. Sorry for intruding upon your hospitality,” she spat and put her coat on. “I won’t take up any more of your time. See you at work on Monday, Alexander.” 

She left as quickly as her unwilling hip would allow her to, her emotions running wild, and didn’t look back to see a stunned Alexander sitting motionless, staring into the air and mumbling to himself, “What the _fuck_?” 


	3. Twilight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally.

Angelica’s phone rang after their second glass of wine. “Ooh, it’s my babysitter. I have to take this.” 

Eliza waved her hand in the air as a green light, and swirled her wine around in her glass, already feeling a little light headed – she hadn’t eaten since that disastrous breakfast, and the lasagna was still cooling down, just out of the oven. 

“That’s totally fine, I’m coming – give me fifteen minutes. Yes. No, no, don’t worry, it’s fine. Okay. See you. Bye.” Angelica hung up her flip phone and sighed deeply, closing her eyes and pressing the phone to her chest. “Philip and Kitty are throwing up.”

“Noooo,” Eliza moaned, “can’t the babysitter handle it?” She put down her glass and sat up straight, legs crossed. 

“I’m sorry, Eliza. She’s creeped out and it’s not exactly in her job description.” Angelica made a pouty grimace and leaned down to hug her little sister, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m sure that lasagna is delicious. I’ll swing by tomorrow and snag the leftovers for lunch.” 

Eliza chuckled, “Sure. Leave me to eat alone – worse, _drink alone_. What a horrible destiny. And by the hand of _my own sister_ …” she acted dramatically, gasping for air and faking a heart attack. Angelica laughed as she yelled her goodbyes and closed the door.

Alone again, Eliza felt restless. A Saturday night never felt good alone. For the thirty-ninth time since her blowout that morning, she checked her phone for messages from Alexander – still none. Was he mad at her? Or did he want to give her space? Was he done with her shit, having taken such care of her and then being screamed at in return? That seemed the most plausible reason for his silence.

Why did her stomach always churn and turn ice cold whenever she thought of him? She finished her third glass of wine, pondering this. Her fourth was done in three gulps. Time seemed to move so slowly, the clock on her wall ticking, mocking her, almost. Why couldn’t she just let him go? Move on and be friends, never tell him anything, marry James and have children and grow old?  
Glass number five. Bottle empty. Courage on the rise. 

_> Eliza Schuyler: What are you doing_

The reply came within a minute.

_> Alexander Hamilton: Do I sense an apology coming my way?_

_> Eliza Schuyler: I am so sorry_

_> Alexander Hamilton: It’s fine. I’m just reading. Are you okay?_

_> Eliza Schuyler: Do you want to come over_

_> Alexander Hamilton: What’s in it for me?_

_> Eliza Schuyler: lasagna_

_> Alexander Hamilton: Garlic bread? _

_> Eliza Schuyler: ummmm of course???_

_> Alexander Hamilton: Are you drunk?_

_> Eliza Schuyler: what gave it away_

_> Alexander Hamilton: I can’t believe you’re not making spelling errors. Incredible. Coming._

Not even ten minutes passed before her doorbell rang. “Hello,” she sniffled at Alexander – and then noticed she was crying. Confused, she wiped her face with her sleeve and sniffled some more, suddenly feeling very much like a child. 

“Hi. How are-… Are you crying?” He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, searching her face. 

“I guess,” she mumbled. “I don’t even know why, this is stupid.”

Alexander smiled tentatively and sat down on the sofa. He picked up the bottle of wine and examined the label. “Angelica’s favorite red.”

“She was here, but her kids were puking, so she had to go.” She dumped down next to him.

“So I’m the second choice. I see how it is,” he chuckled jokingly – but when this made her start sobbing again, his face fell. “Hey, I’m sorry. It was a joke.”

“I know, I’m just miserable,” Eliza tried to laugh, but it came out sounding very hollow, so she stopped, too. 

“Do you wanna talk about it? Or not? Because if not then we can totally do something else, take a walk, just eat – smells delicious by the way – watch TV, do a puzzle-“

“Alex.”

“Yeah?” he looked up at her properly now, his warm brown eyes comforting her.

It all came out in one ragged breath. 

“I am very, very much in love with you and I have been for a long time and it hasn’t gone away and I don’t know how to handle it and you’re not helping and I feel like I’m going to die and I’m engaged and you’re sleeping with Maria Reynolds and don’t even deny it because I see the way you look at her and wow that’s actually totally none of my business and I retract everything I just said because I realize how stupid it sounds and you should probably just go home now.” 

Silence.

Then, 

“Eliza.”

She looked up from her lap just in time to meet his mouth with her own – he kissed her very, very gently, as if she were a porcelain doll, as if to say ‘stop me whenever’. Her heart racing in her chest, she pulled his face closer to hers and clung to the front of his shirt for dear life, crying as she kissed him, desperately, realizing only now how much she had needed this, needed him, needed his lips on hers, kissing her as if he loved her, too, and it felt so mind-blowingly good and so incredibly painful all at once. They moved perfectly in sync, Eliza climbing onto his lap as he held her tighter, wrapping his arms around her waist, leaving no space between their bodies. 

It felt like both an eternity and half a second had passed when he broke away – this, too, very gently. Afraid that she had crossed a line, Eliza started fidgeting, but Alexander instead started pressing soft kisses to her forehead, eyelids, cheeks, tear tracks, her mouth again – she closed her eyes and tried not to sob. Her fingertips were tingling, her heart was jumping out of her chest, and she felt the heat pool in her underwear. She rested one hand at the nape of his neck, the other cradling the side of his face, and rested her forehead against his, trying to breathe properly. One of his hands moved to stroke her hair, leaving her spine tingling, too.

After another eternity, she spoke, voice raw and cracking, “Not what I was expecting to get from that.”

Alexander smiled fondly and kissed her, breathing in as he did so, trying to savor the taste and feel of her. “I was waiting for you.” 

“You knew?”

“Of course I knew.”

Eliza started protesting incredulously – how could he have known? – but was stopped once more by his lips on hers. This time he applied a little more force, pushing his tongue into her mouth, and she let out an involuntary moan, shuddering a little. Taken aback and a little embarrassed by how strongly her body reacted to him, she tried to laugh it away, but when Alexander looked her in the eyes – his own were darker, lustful, almost primal – she felt herself give up the pretense of not craving him. “Please,” she breathed into his ear. It didn’t take more for him to obey. 

He had already been wanting it, but hadn’t wanted to push her. Just like the first kiss, he wanted her to initiate it – last night, when she was laying in his bed, wearing his clothes, sleeping, she had felt so vulnerable to him, all he had wanted to do was hold her – but even that would be considered breaking the invisible wall between them, and he didn’t want to be responsible for their friendship’s demise. Now, on the other hand, he could feel figurative sparks fly between them, could see in her eyes and in her body language that she wanted this, needed this, maybe even as much as he did. 

He lifted her shirt up and off, then undid the buttons on her pants and pulled them off in one swift motion. She wasn’t wearing a bra. He felt himself harden as her breasts were right in front of his face – as perfect as he had imagined them to be, pale, soft, rounded. He kissed them, taking one nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, slowly – Eliza stirred on top of him, her breath catching – then moving up to kiss her on the mouth again. 

Something had awoken in Eliza. Her tears now faint tracks on her face, she undid every button on Alexander’s shirt slowly, smiling to herself when he twitched as she started on the lowest one. Once his pants were off, she tried to rid him of his last remaining article of clothing, but he stopped her. Lifting her gently off his lap and laying her bare back on her leather sofa – she shivered from the cold – he removed her panties and started kissing the insides of her thighs. Already wet, Eliza huffed impatiently, and Alexander reached one hand up to interlock their fingers as he went down on her. It was the best thing she had ever experienced. His tongue made everything it touched catch fire, and it almost became too much when he added two fingers – she let out a moan that was so guttural it didn’t sound even remotely like something that could come out of her mouth. “Please,” she repeated breathily.

Alexander circled her clit with his tongue almost lazily, humming, until she pulled his head up to her and kissed him fiercely. “I said _please_.” 

They took off his underwear as a team effort, and as the tip of him touched her entrance, Eliza almost felt herself blacking out from the emotions that were going through her. He pushed into her – they both moaned – and with each thrust she felt something stir deep inside her, not only pleasure, but also ‘I have waited so long for this, I love you, I love you, I love you’. She felt tears pressing behind her eyes again. Not wanting him to think there was anything wrong, she moved away from him and hid her face by taking him into her mouth. His grunts of pleasure were fuel to her fire, and then he was pushing her mouth away, roughly, and pulling her to him so that her legs were wrapped around him again, and she lowered herself onto him, and they were moving in perfect sync with each other, and then pleasure was ripping through her body, and the tears were flowing freely again. Alexander came with a low moan and, still inside her, kissed her like it was his dying wish – they were hot and sweaty and exhausted, but neither of them cared, all that mattered was here and now, this kiss, this feeling, each other.

She couldn’t remember falling asleep, but when Eliza awoke, limbs tangled in Alexander’s, light was streaming in through her windows. She laid there for a while, just looking at him, sleeping lightly, chest rising and falling, until she couldn’t help it anymore and kissed his forehead. He opened one eye. 

“Hey.”

“Hey,” she replied, kissing him on the mouth this time. He hummed his approval, pulling her on top of him and stroking her back as he kissed her. Eliza felt herself getting wet again. “Uhm,” she said, a little more awkward now that she wasn’t quite as drunk and desperate, “I need a shower. You, uh... wanna join?”

Alexander checked his watch and sighed. “Actually, I should go. I promised to meet Hercules for lunch. I’ve bailed on him twice now.”

After he’d left, Eliza went into the shower and tried to wash off the guilt that, now that she was alone again, was washing in over her in waves, trying to drown her. Her stomach lurched as she looked into the mirror, and she bent over the toilet just in time to throw up. She felt as conflicted as humanly possible – happy, loved, relieved, and guilty, dirty, horrible, unholy. The discrepancy turned into bile, rising in her throat, and she threw up again, crying into the toilet bowl, holding her knees and sobbing. She felt like a liar, and she was one, too – she was reminded of a book she’d read at university. _Heptaméron_. One of the short stories in it, one about a knight and a princess and their unspoken love, had never resounded with her. Now, their words burned in her.

Is it better to speak or to die?


End file.
